| Wattys 2022 Shortlist | CURRENTLY UNDER THE EDITING PROCESS
Bora, the last arctic breed, was born with an ominous curse. He must sacrifice himself to the deity for the sake of his kind, but when he meets Gemma, love makes him reevaluate his self-i...
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Each day, our friendship grows stronger.
Bora and I are two peas in a pod. At least, that's what Gwen says. Even journey to and from school together, pretty much inseparable. We stroll along the sidewalk under the same umbrella as the rain driblets tap the Iowa river. He outstretches my lengthy cork-screw curls, letting them spring back, making popping noises each time he lets go.
I pop my lips in the same rhythm as we make the most of the dreaded weather. Payton and Hazel are ahead of us with their fingers interlocking.
Bora points at them. "Why do they always do that?"
"Hold hands? I don't know. It is what friends do."
"I get that, but why don't they hold your hand?" Bora ruffled his hair, eyeing me. "You eat lunch together, play at recess together, you're even on the same volleyball team. I never see them asking you. Most of the time, you look like an outcast. Rude if you ask me."
I wasn't sure what to say. I hadn't noticed. "It's fine. I'm not bothered by it."
"Well, if you ever need a friend to hold your hand, I'll do it anytime, anywhere, because it's what friends do."
"Not all friends."
"Well, this friend does." Bora said, clasping our hands together, which caught me by surprised. He swung our arms, and I guffaw, goofing around until we stepped up to my house. He steadies himself. "The weather will be nice this weekend, and my parents camping at Dubuque. Want to come?"
My eyes brightened. "Duh! But I have to get permission."
Bora opened my door. "Let's ask them." We entered the living room with the odor of suffocating musky coffee and chocolate pastries, spotting them on the sofa, talking as we stood in front of them. John glanced at our hands while Gwen held onto his bicep.
"Can Gemma go camping with my family?" Bora asked with confidence.
"No." Dad didn't hesitate with a flat-out answer.
My mom countered. "Yes," they exchanged a million wordless thoughts.
"What's your reason?" Gwen asked.
My dad glared at her. "You know the reason."
"John. We agreed Gemma was getting older. It's okay for her to have some freedom. You, the one who convinced me, and now you're backing down?"
"Walking to school and riding bikes to the park differs from spending the entire weekend with a-" My dad caught himself and looked at us. "The answer is no."
My mom got up from her seat. "Of course, you can." She kissed the top of my head and ruffled Bora's hair, leaving for the bathroom. My dad mumbled under his breath and stood up, coming over to us with a smile while we returned the same reaction. He removed our hands and crammed between us to pass.
